


Blank stares at blank pages

by chocolatecrack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison-centric, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Minor Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7068598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatecrack/pseuds/chocolatecrack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where you write things on yourself and it also shows up on your soulmate, Allison Argent chose to have empty skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blank stares at blank pages

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://a-u-prompts.tumblr.com/post/141599403810/diminuendodaydreams-let-gavin-free) post and the idea really stuck to me so I wrote this in about an hour and got it out. Yaaaaay. It's a little bit rushed lol but I just went with it, haha. [scenesinmoonstruck](http://scenesinmoonstruck.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr if you wanna talk. Or have requests/prompts! (Title is a line from Sara Bareilles' song "Love Song"). Un-beta'd.

Allison Argent lives in a world where you write things on yourself, and it also shows up somewhere else.

Or rather, on someone else.

It’s not that hard, really. But everyone keeps obsessing over it, writings things all over their bodies, looking like they were all tattooed at this really sketchy tattoo parlor just near school. It’s like everyone had forgotten about texting and messaging and calling. The phone industry has been going crazy. Every single millennial was focused on writing someone on their wrist now. Or arm, or hand, or somewhere weird like their thigh and stomach.

Everyone was basically trying to communicate with their so-called “soul mate”.

And honestly? Allison just doesn’t really see the appeal. She liked being in control of herself. She liked knowing her own fate, taking charge of her own destiny. There was really no need for some weird chat with her supposed soul mate on any part of her body. Not to mention, Allison liked looking clean.

Surprisingly, her soul mate had the same idea. Not one single message, or a punctuation even, appeared on her body. She tried searching for them one day, out of curiosity, and stood in front of the mirror, bare naked, in her bathroom. But there was none. No sentence, no word, no period. Nothing. She was clean.

She wasn’t really sure if she should be worried or relieved. Maybe a little bit of both.

Whatever.

It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t going to affect her. Nope. She wasn’t going to let it. Because if she does find her soul mate or whatever, it didn’t really need for it be now. Now, as in she wasn’t in the right mind for a relationship now. And now as in, right in this moment. Because she was heading to Econ in about a few minutes, she just needed to get some books in her locker, and bumping into her soul mate or seeing some random message on her body wasn’t her idea of a good sign.

It was good to focus on yourself. To be single. To be happy with yourself first, and love your own person, before dedicating your time to someone else. And she does love herself. She loves focusing on herself. She's proud and confident and comfortable on her own. She’s fine. Whatever.

So she sits in Econ, listens to Coach Finstock talk about demand and supply and watches as Lydia scribbles down some explanation on how to get the answer to a really complicated math problem on her wrist.

Ah, yes. Stiles was in Trig during this time. Allison shakes her head. Typical.

It was so much easier to cheat on tests with this whole soul mate thing going on. Then again, it was also so much easier to find out if the only thing your soul mate wants from you is answers to a test. Thankfully, Stiles and Lydia weren’t that. They just help each other study. Giving out explanations, instead of direct answers. Allison maybe, sort of, slightly thinks they’re the cutest, but she’ll never tell Lydia that. Mostly because Lydia will keep pestering her to just write some damn question on her wrist already and find her soul mate. To just give in. There was no way that was going to happen.

So the bell rings and she has English with Kira next, meets up with her near the lockers, seeing an, _I love you_ that was full of hearts peeking out from under her jacket sleeve. Allison smiles to herself, then to her other friend, as Kira turns into a pretty shade of pink. She starts to say sorry, that Scott likes to be all mushy and stuff, but Allison tells her there was nothing to say sorry for. Because really, there wasn’t.

Scott and Allison dated a long time ago, and when Scott finally wrote something on his wrist, it didn’t appear on hers. To be quite honest, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

It also happens to be the moment that she decided this whole soul mate, relationship, love thing wasn’t the best idea.

Allison tried to be happy. Tried to love, to be in a relationship, to be with someone. And it ended badly. So maybe it made her a little cynical. But it hurt. A lot. And she really wasn’t ready to feel that kind of hurt again. She had had enough.

So she’s really happy for Scott and Kira. Because Scott wrote a, _I wonder where you are_ on his wrist one day, and Allison was passed by Kira at the halls, Scott walking beside Allison while he wrote. And it appeared, just as he was writing it. She had grabbed Kira’s wrist then, as Scott wrote the final curve on the letter e, and it ended so gracefully on Kira’s wrist. Scott and Kira stared at each other, both smiling so wide, Allison was so sure their faces were going to break in half. And Allison was extremely over the moon about it, smiling like a dork because her friends were happy. Her friends being happy, on their own and with each other, made Allison really happy too.

And they were pretty freakin’ adorable to say the least.

So yea, maybe she’s fine with just watching her friends be happy. Maybe it was what she was meant to do. Maybe the whole soul mate thing wasn’t what she was cut out for. Maybe that’s why the whole “always the bridesmaid, never the bride” saying was invented. Maybe her soul mate was nowhere to be found. Maybe, _just maybe_ , her soul mate was—

Her books fell to the ground because she bumped into someone. And ow, did it hurt.

“Hey, watch where you’re going,” she said, crouching down to pick up her fallen school stuff, not even bothering to look at who or what she bumped into.

“Sorry, sorry,” was said in a quiet voice. Allison was ready to snap and tell him off, but this boy’s voice was a little soft and really apologetic so she thought otherwise.

They both reach for one of her books, and it looks like some scene from a goddamn movie.

Allison decides to look up because there wasn’t really a reason not to. So she does. And she stares into really vibrant blue eyes shrouded by a few dark blonde curls and a soft expression. She lowers her eyes and stares at full lips and okay she really needs to pull her hand away now, or look away, or _get_ away, but she doesn’t. Because she can’t. Or doesn’t want to. Or she doesn’t know but she’s stuck in place.

“I’m sorry, I’ll look next time, I was in a hurry and, uhm,” the boy scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, but for some reason kept his other one in place. So both of their hands are stuck on her copy of Romeo and Juliet and it couldn’t get more ironic than that.

“It’s fine,” she said, voice almost breaking. They move in sync as they both pull their hands away, her angling her books and pushing them towards her. Gathering them in her arms again, she dusted off dirt from her skirt and stood up straight. The boy picks up a few paintbrushes from the ground, and some opened sketchbooks. Allison peeked a few portraits, some landscapes, abstracts here and there. He was good.

And also apparently heading to art class.

“Uhm, sorry again. I’ll get out of your way,” he said, fixing his hold on his materials and standing up clearly. And wow, was he tall. Like,  _really_ tall. Because she was a pretty tall girl herself, even without the heels. And he still managed to be one head taller than her.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Allison said, wanting to say more but the boy was already walking away awkwardly, seeming to be crouching in on himself. Probably to lower his height.

Kira shifts on her spot. “Allison?” she said, “Uhm, we’re going to be late.”

And it snaps Allison out of her reverie. Because she was watching him walk away. Him not even looking back at her. He was taking long strides and hurrying towards the art room. And okay, so Allison was curious now. Because there was some sort of…glow? In his eyes. Some weird, the good weird, kind of vibe when they looked at each other. It was unusual.

But she shook it off because Kira was right and a few more seconds of her staring at the back of some boy’s head, a boy she didn’t even know, wasn’t going to be a good excuse as to why her and her friend were late to class.

“Oh, right. Yea,” she said, looking back one more time, and then walking towards Kira as they head to English.

Which pretty much passed by like a breeze. Some sub had taken over the class, and Allison listened carefully as they discussed Romeo and Juliet and went into an in depth discussion about how it was more than just a "tragic love story". But something had been nagging Allison the whole time. Like a voice at the back of her mind. Some kind of signal, or a sound that she thinks she's the only one who can hear. Weird.

The class ended, and as she waved a _Hi_ to Cora in the hallway, she tried to look for the boy again. There was a blur of tall and dark blonde in her peripheral vision. But before she could make out what the blur really was, the blur had taken a turn on a hallway, and all she could see was Erica Reyes’ blond curls as they bounce while she walked, Boyd walking behind her while he gripped his backpack.

Hmm.

With a shrug, she walks towards French class.

In the middle of the lesson, as Ms. Morell was discussing pronunciation, Allison stared at her wrist. She saw how blank it was. How her pale skin was basically begging her to be written on. To be full of ink.

A marker was in her hand, and she couldn’t quite remember how it had gotten there, but it was there and it was open and maybe she was going to do this. Maybe she was finally going to write. She didn't know what had prompted her to. But there was this unbearable urge to just try it out. To see what happens. There was that voice in the back of her mind again, and it was gradually getting louder. She didn't quite understand why she had only felt it now. But it was there. And well, she didn't have anything to lose anyway. It wasn’t too late for a change of mind right?

She took a deep breath, rolled the marker between her fingers, and exhaled.

Okay.

She was going for it.

And then, there was a small line. Or a curve, actually. It grew and grew and then it turned into swirls. And the swirls turned into this really beautiful and intricate pattern, branching out into different directions. It filled her inner wrist, right where her pulse was beating fast. Then it kept expanding all throughout her forearm and her whole wrist, on and on, until the beautiful design had reached all the way to her elbow. She squinted her eyes and tried to follow the pattern of swirls. She had realized then that there was some sort of semblance of an arrow in the middle, all tied up and surrounded by curves and patterns.

The amazing thing about the entire situation was that the whole thing was not even her doing.

Her soul mate had finally decided to write something. But instead of it being messages and notes, it had been this really beautiful drawing. Some design that she still couldn’t wrap her head around of. Maybe whoever this person was also felt the urge she did? The irresistible urge to just write something already. Maybe that person heard the voice too. Maybe it had become too irresistible and they gave in, like she was just about to.

It was so breathtaking.

Allison couldn't quite process it as the design came to view. She hadn’t realized that she had been staring at her left wrist for a long time now, and only broke out of her trance when the harsh ring of the school bell echoed throughout the halls.

She sprinted out of her seat, practically running out in the hallways all the way to her locker. Stopping in front of it, she tried looking around. To find someone else who had the same design on their left arm. But there was no one.

And she was getting desperate. So maybe it was time.

She took out her marker again, writing a, _It’s beautiful. Where are you?_ in her best penmanship possible. Because this person drew a really intricate and amazing artwork on her freakin’ forearm for Christ’s sake, she wasn’t about to ruin it with bad penmanship.

_Art room._

The words appeared on her palm.

So she dashed her way to the destination, but doubted herself. And then stopped herself from running, because okay, calm down Allison, it’s not like it’s a big deal or whatever. It’s your soul mate. Don’t conform into society’s norm. You just want to meet him, her, them, whatever, and then possibly build a relationship and maybe something more if things go right and yea. That was it. No big deal.

“Okay, who am I kidding?” she whispers to herself because if she was going to be real here, she was excited as hell.

She entered the art room panting, from running and nerves. Which she really doesn’t understand why. She shouldn’t be nervous. This was just a person. Just another person.

Oh wait, it was the boy from earlier. She walked towards him, trying to fix her hair.

“Hey, uhm, did you see someone here? Someone pass by or leave or I don’t know, because there’s this really pretty thing on my wrist and—”

She stopped while she was pointing at her left arm. Because he was holding out his. And he held a marker on his right hand.

Apparently the design was even more beautiful than what she thought it was. She stared at the original work, the one that was wrapped up all around his wrist and arm until it had reached his elbow. There were more details. Some shading, some flicks of ink here and there. It was phenomenal.

“You’re—“ she gulped, “And I’m—“

He stood up, walked towards her. He towered over her as he looked down, and Allison really liked that he was tall. He had a boyish charm about him, but also an aura of confidence. Like he was using it to mask his shyness.

Great, he was her type.

You know, if "type" was even a thing in this stupid soul mate world of theirs.

Wait.

 _Soul mate_.

He was hers.

She was his.

Okay, so maybe she was a little overwhelmed now.

And it was probably a good idea to tell him her name.

“Allison. Argent. I saw you earlier when we…yea,” she said, brushing a few bangs out of her eyes. She had tried to slow her breathing, tried to be less overwhelmed.

He smiled, looked into her eyes.

And _damn_ , was she screwed.

“Isaac. Isaac Lahey. Nice to meet you,”

**Author's Note:**

> I like working with soul mate AUs, they're fun, hahaha. Thoughts?


End file.
